One and Only
by miserella
Summary: ‘So when her hand didn’t hit a framed picture, but a dusty old Spice Girls lunchbox, she panicked. This was not what she was in Seattle for. To look upon the past.’ BP oneshot.


**AN:** This is just a quick oneshot, that basically leaves a lot to the imagination. Kinda like Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books, but not really. ...Just read and find out what I'm trying to say, haha.

**Disclaimer: I own nada.  
Enjoy.**

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The brunette girl dipped her hand into the cardboard box expecting to find a fancy, intricate square framing the picture of her and her parents. She'd moved out of her ex's small and crowded apartment in New York and into a quaint, little home in Seattle. It wasn't her scene, or it wasn't the girl she was in high school's scene, but now she loved it. Far away from her past, and far away from her ex. The girl had met her ex-fiancé Eric at a quiet, little coffee shop, and thought she fell instantly in love. She was sure that, after high school, love would never grace her, but she believed she must have been wrong, because Eric was an answer to her prayers... kind of.

Well, what were her prayers? She needed someone she could lean on. Someone to be able to call at 3am to tell about her awful night. Someone she could pop a big bag of popcorn with and pig out on junk food. Someone she could go to the movie theatres with and talk, laugh and joke around the whole movie. Someone who, despite her imperfections, loved her anyways. And that's why they had broken up, because she realized there was only person she could do that with.

To be honest, the girl didn't even miss her hometown. She missed the happenings there of years gone by, and she missed _her_. But that's as far as it went. The girl was much more satisfied in Seattle. Though she was alone, and with no friends, she liked the feeling of starting fresh.

So when her hand didn't hit a framed picture, but a dusty old Spice Girls lunchbox, she panicked. This was not what she was in Seattle for. To look upon the past. She was in Seattle, she reminded herself, to be a new person. Not to go through things from times she's too scared to bring up, too afraid to face.

She calmed down and regained her composure, and then, surprisingly to her, smiled at the lunchbox. Yes, she'd recognize this one anywhere. The imprinted faces of the five – Posh, Scary, Baby, Sporty and Ginger – were slightly fading, but as the girl ran her fingers over the indented shape of their faces, she knew that the outlines would always be there, even if the colouring had faded. It felt familiar.

The brunette unclasped the flip-lock on the lunchbox, brushing on it gently to clear off the dust, and her eyes widened when she lifted the metal lid. All sorts of things from her childhood laid neatly inside. Slightly smiling, the girl picked up an empty bottle of sparkly dark blue nail polish.

It was their favourite polish, because of the sparkles, and they both liked the colour. The other girl wouldn't wear pink, the brunette's favourite colour, and the brunette wouldn't wear black, the other girl's favourite colour. When they went to the mall at the age of eleven and saw the shiny blue polish, they both loved it. They'd made sure they both always wore it because it showed their connection as best friends. When they finished the bottle the brunette held in her hands presently, they had gone to the store to pick up another, and found out the colour was discontinued. The girls rushed home, and tried to get any nail polish they could out of the basically empty bottle, and had just enough to each paint their pinkies. For pinky promises.

The brunette shook her head and picked up an old Blockbuster VHS movie. She slid the tape out of the cardboard pouch and the label read "Clueless". The girl immediately grinned.

The year they were nine, the movie Clueless came out, and the girls adored it. The two copied Cher's hair styles, clothes, attitude – everything. The day it came out on video, they rode their bikes to the closest Blockbuster right after school. They looked for it, but they couldn't find it, so they asked the closest worker. He had said they weren't getting their shipment in for a while. He was cute, so they went back every second day to see if they had gotten it in. By the time they did, the girls weren't so obsessed with the movie anymore. They had still bought it though, and they obviously put it in the lunchbox.

The girl giggled and sat the VHS on the coffee table. Then she stuck her hand in the lunchbox again and took out a small square of light blue cotton that was dotted with tiny blue flowers, and the girl felt her face fall.

It was from the other's mom's favourite top. It was a button down, and it fit the other girl's mom nicely. The brunette remembered something about the other girl saying it always smelled good, that it always smelled like her mom. Then when her mom passed away, it was all the other girl wore. It didn't fit her nicely like it fit her mom, because her mom of course was much bigger than the nine year old. And with time, the smell of her mom slowly drifted and the smell of the other girl began to take over. It scared the girl... she wasn't ready to accept her mother was gone. And not gone-to-the-grocery-store-gone, gone as in forever. The other girl was so traumatized by her mother's passing, and the brunette knew she would never be the same.

The girl put the items back in the lunchbox. She couldn't see anymore. She locked it up again, but sat silently with it still on her lap.

The girl, Brooke was her name, knew at one point, the past would come back and haunt her. She really did, she just didn't expect it to be this soon. The lunchbox was a reminder that although large roadbumps, like one Lucas Scott, can derail your friendship sometimes… it was all that mattered.

Brooke sighed sadly and laid the lunchbox beside her. She had made a mistake. A long time ago. Now it was too late to fix it.

Brooke looked at the phone beside her, contemplating mentally. Could she call? Should she call? Does she even live there anymore? Where could she be, if not there?

But before she could even answer any of these thoughts, she found herself already dialing the number that would be forever in her mind, even if she didn't want it to be.

One ring. Two. Thr-

"Hello?" Her voice hadn't changed. Brooke was sure she looked the same, too. Tight, untameable blonde curls, hazel eyes with a whole lot of sadness and pain behind them. "Hello-o?" The girl said in a sing-song voice.

"…Hi," Brooke whispered with a rasp.

But the girl had heard her.

"B. Davis," The blonde had said, and Brooke heard a whimper.

"P. Sawyer."

"Do you hate me?" Peyton sobbed.

"As much as I wanted to, I could never hate you. You're my best friend. Always."

Again the girl let out a sob, "And you'll always be mine."

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So, see what I mean? I didn't really go much into details about their past, so it's up to you to decide what happened. Anyways, this is my first oneshot. So go easy on me ;)


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